


Dan and Phil x The Hunger Games

by AthenaTheGreekGodess



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), youtube - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Drama, Hah idk how to tag, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sci-Fi Setting, Slow Burn, Some Major Character death, Will add more tags as I go, but not dan or phil, canon-divergence, dark themes, fluff but mostly angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25002718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaTheGreekGodess/pseuds/AthenaTheGreekGodess
Summary: Ever wonder what a Dan and Phil / Hunger games crossover would look like? Well here you goThis story will follow the general beats that hunger games hit, with some deviation here and there and of course a new cast of characters straight out our favorite platform, YouTube! Fair warning, characters will die. And like hunger games, there will be no mercy >:)
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Kudos: 5





	Dan and Phil x The Hunger Games

**Author's Note:**

> Happy hunger games! 
> 
> And may the odds be ever in your favor ~

It was three days before the reaping when the accident happened. Him and Martyn had been training for years for this moment. Every waking hour was spent at the academy, training until they passed out or one of them got too injured to keep going. It was a brutal test of their endurance. But it was a necessary struggle. Everyone in District 1 would be clamoring to get the glory of winning the Hunger games. But no one wanted it more than Martyn. Phil saw it in his eyes during training. That fire, that passion, that strength. He wanted nothing more than to honor the Lester family name and take home the victory. 

Of course, this terrified Phil in a small way. Him and Martyn had always been very close, ever since they were little. Always acting out the games with their friends, training at a young age. Phil couldn’t imagine losing him. But he had faith. Martyn would truly be unstoppable. So if the time came and Martyn’s name was called, Phil knew he would let him go. Let him have his glory. 

He didn’t think it would happen like this. 

Three days. Just three lousy days before the games, and there was an accident while training. Martyn specialized in knives. Throwing knives, Kukris, Blades, you name it. His favorite weapon though was a Sword, which fit him well. Strong, Regal, Grand. Of course, swords were a bit more rare in the Arena to come across. Typically they were located at the back of the cornucopia, and only the remaining careers that happen to claim the area get that sort of reward. But Martyn had always seemed confident that he would snag one if he got the chance. Still, he prioritized typical blades over the sword just Incase, as Knifes had a lot of duality and he’d have a much greater chance of running into something he could use out there if needed. He was an absolute master at it by now. They were both 18, the prime age to enter the games and take the glory. They both knew that it was now or never, and so they’d upped their training tenfold. 

That turned out to be a big mistake. 

See, him, Martyn, and 15 other kids were all training at this academy. They often spared to practice their skills, and especially as they got older the sparring matches only got more intense. But on one specific day, a kid crossed the line. 

Jack Bentley. A blonde douchey kid with a buzz cut and several scars across his body. He was a special tormentor of both him and Martyn, as before him and Martyn started training here, Jack had been in the running for the most elite career. When Martyn and he came however, that title was taken. Martyn surpassed Jack in almost everything, and this infuriated him to no end. Ever since, they’ve been in an intense power struggle to try and gain the mentors’ favor. 

Now, three days before the reaping and the pressure had gotten to Jack. 

Jack specialized in strength. A lot of heavy weapons. He used medicine balls often, and his main specialty was with Maces. Bar maces, Spears, and things such as bricks or rocks. Basically anything you could bash someone’s head in with. 

Phil had been off with his mentor when it happened. Anthony, a good guy. Probably Phil’s favorite person ever besides his own brother. They’d been going over how to build a snare for the 10th time that month when they heard shouting at the other side of the warehouse. At first they’d left it alone, but eventually the shouting began to draw the eyes of other apprentices around the building. Phil had decided to check it out after hearing Martyn’s distinctive voice, but when they ran over they both froze at what they saw. 

Martyn had been practicing his knife throwing techniques when Jack decided to taunt him. They flaunted their own skills for a while, Jack demonstrating how he could throw a medicine ball straight into a spear rack and have the entire thing topple over and Martyn throwing his knife so precisely it sliced one of the ceiling nets open and caused a huge sack of grain to nearly fall on Jacks head. This obviously pissed him off and before they knew it he and jack were wrestling on one of the platforms. Fighting between apprentices wasn’t really allowed but it was tolerated when it didn’t involve weaponry. But what started as a wrestling match quickly turned into something darker as Jack saw an opportunity to stop Martyn from being victorious. He grabbed one of the spears that had clanged to the ground and violently held it down to Martyn’s throat, slowly choking him to death with his slightly superior strength. 

It was all over once one of the mentors ran onto the platform and tried to pry him off. But Jack wasn’t done. With one last ditch effort he stabbed the spear right at Martyn’s head, barely missing his eye and scraping the side of his cheek and slicing open his right ear. Martyn had been stunned and barely able to breath for a while, and they ended up having to get a doctor on him. Turns out the choke had severely damaged his windpipe and vocal cords, as well as nearly causing him to pass out. Because of this, he’d have to be hospitalized for the next week. In a tragic turn of events, Jack had gotten what he wanted. And Phil couldn’t have been more pissed. 

This was supposed to be Martyn’s moment. His Big day. The day when the mentors would choose who of the academy was fit enough to join in the 74th annual Hunger Games. But now? Now that was all going to shit. All because of Jack. 

Phil wanted revenge. Revenge for his brother. Revenge for his family. Honestly, he was disgusted that the other mentors actually let Jack stay to participate. Some of them were even impressed. 

Phil was so sick of it. But he would show them, oh, he would show them. 

Phil specialized in the bow and arrow. He didn’t quite know why, but when he pulled back that string and breathed in, it was like he had the world in his hands. Like he could do anything with that bow. 

This made him less of a threat in the other careers eyes. A bow and arrow was a lethal weapon but only to the people who truly knew how to use it to its full potential. What they didn’t know, was that Phil had a few tricks up his sleeves. Nightlock berries. 

Perhaps it was the dirty way of playing, but it seemed perfectly fair in Phil’s eyes. What was more lethal than an arrow to the heart? How about an arrow dipped in nightlock juice? Even if he missed horrendously and got them in the leg or the arm, or even if it just grazed them, they would be facing the consequences of the poison and soon succumb to it. Phil...knew this method was dirty. A long range _and_ poisonous weapon? It almost seems unfair. 

But no one else knew of this weapon yet. No one except for Anthony and Martyn. They were the only ones whom he told about the special tactic, and both of them were quite interested by it when he brought it up. But around the other apprentices he hid the skill away. The last thing he needed was people taking his idea or suddenly finding him as competition. 

See, Phil wasn’t like his brother in that way. He was never quite as hungry for the glory and fame, much more content with living in Martyn’s shadow and simply encouraging him while also honing the skills he did have simply because it was fun. Because of this mentality no one really saw him as competition, and he even had a few friends. 

But now? 

Now Phil actually needed to try. He needed to try and be better. To be the _best_ over all the other apprentices. Even Jack. If he failed, he wouldn’t have just disappointed his family, he would have failed at bringing Martyn honor. 

The next two days were spent doing the most intense training Phil had ever participated in. It was mind-numbing the amount of drills and tests he was put through in such a short amount of time, but it was all necessary. For the show time. The big day. Well, technically the day right _before_ the big day. But it was possibly even more important in some ways. 

Today is the day where each apprentice would demonstrate their skills in the simulation and the mentors would decide privately who should be chosen for the games. 

It was now or never. 

Phil stepped up to the glass. Jack was going now. Phil had only stayed to watch Jack and one other girl, Lilly. And Jack, he was...an animal. With his mace he was able to bludgeon the heads of almost every single one of the pixelated attackers. The ones he missed still took hard hits to the ankle that sent them sprawling over, where in a real life situation Martyn would simply be able to turn around and finish them off. Everything was near perfection, from his aim to his ability to dodge to his technique. Almost flawless. Almost. 

Jack had always had trouble with...confidence. Removed from arrogance, confidence was the secret killer of many careers. Most if not all careers had arrogance. It was simply something they were born into. But confidence was something that was obtained by status and skill. And Jack, feeling as though he was on top of the world, simply didn’t realize that he’s not the only one with a mace. 

After a particularly narrow dodge from an archer hiding behind a pole, a macer ran straight at his back. Jack swung around with a vicious aim to hit the mans head, but the pixelated man ducked at the last moment and swung his mace at Jack's legs. The pixels turned red and a loud alarm beeped once before the red bits disintegrated and he was left standing there once more. 

A brief silence followed, disrupted only by the mentors telling Jack he could step away now. 

The look he sent Phil on the way out was murderous. And Phil knew why. 

He was the only person left. For the last two days he’d been hard at work demonstrating his accuracy with a bow, but rarely did it around the others. He wanted to keep their expectations low just so he could rip the veil off at the very end. In the meantime while he was around the others he worked on much more practical skills, like foraging tips and fire starting. But he had a feeling Jack knew there was something he wasn’t fully letting on to. Maybe it was the way Phil and him shared looks of hate between each other. Maybe he realized that by messing with one brother he was pissing off the other. Who knows. All Phil knew was that now was his chance to wipe that smug face off of him once and for all. 

“Phil? You ready?” He looked up to see Anthony standing in front of him. He looked proud, if a bit sad, and Phil could understand why. If this was truly his last stand, he’d have to say goodbye to Anthony and move on with his life. A failure. 

He couldn’t lose. He just _couldn’t_. 

Supplying only a nod in response to Anthony’s question, he stole his courage and stepped into the simulation chamber. Hearing the doors close behind him and the faint echoing of his shoes on the cement flooring, he wondered absently who the female tribute accompanying him Into the games would be. Hopefully someone he’s spoken to at least once and didn’t hate him. 

As soon as his feet touched the metal platform in the center of the room the lights around him dimmed, orange lazer-like beams of light scanning the area as a faint buzzing sound hummed in his ears. 

He began to reach behind him just as the first of the pixelated opponents appeared, a static like whirring sound accompanying them along with a large axe. 

‘Right off the bat?’ Was his first thought as he barely dodged the axe blade that was thrown at him, pulling back his bowstring the second he rolled out of the way and landing it dead in the man's heart. From behind he could hear the whirring of the lasers before he saw the figure, his arrow going through their skull before they even got close. From above there was a ping followed by the echoing of stomps, seeing a smaller tribute-looking figure running by with a sack of who knows what. He let the arrow fly, hitting them first in the leg then in the back as they crumpled in a shower of yellow pixels. 

He heard another ping, turned and _barely_ dodged a flying arrow from a glowing figure hiding behind a podium. Matching their speed easily he got them in the chest, turning to shoot down another knife-throwing bastard before finally there was silence. 

He breathed heavily, his hands still positioned on his bow, an arrow loaded and ready to fly. But there was no other company to greet him, and he found himself smiling. _‘I did it’_ he thought relieved. ‘I did it.’ 

Clapping. 

He turned to see the mentors standing there, accompanied by a few fellow trainees, and he’d never felt fuller in his life. Anthony was grinning at him with the proudest gaze he’s ever seen, clapping slowly with that ‘You did it.’ Emphasis. The other mentors were talking quietly amongst each other, some of them giving him side-eyes, but for once Phil didn’t care what they were saying. He _knew_ he’d won. 

He just didn’t know at the time that winning would be the start of a change he’d never expected. 

**𓅛**

It was the day of the reaping. 

Looking in the mirror, Dan found that somehow he didn’t look absolutely terrified. He looked...empty. A shell of the person he used to be. Which, made sense. Don’t get him wrong. Living on your own in a place like this...it was like walking into a cloud of poison fog. 

Which, the funny thing is he’s not even living alone. No, he has his family. All of them. His father, his mother, his brother. They’re all here. So why the fuck did he feel so alone? 

Maybe it had to do with the fact his family pretty much disowned him a week ago. Or the fact that the only friend he’d ever had betrayed him. Or maybe it was just knowing that no matter if his name was drawn or not, his future wouldn’t be much different. Now that’s a thought. 

Dan had been thinking of this a lot. His name was probably in there more times then was comfortable. His brothers name is only there what, five times? If that. But if his brother was called, despite everything, Dan wondered if he’d let him go. Maybe. 

They’d have to find out. 

Leaving the place they called ‘home’, Dan walked in complete silence with his family. His brother, who was a year younger than him, looked as though he was desperately trying to remain emotionless about all of this. But Dan knew. He could see the flickers of fear in his eyes when they’d turn a corner, as if in the back of his mind knowing they were getting closer and closer to their own demise. 

Dan would normally pity him. Tell him everything would be alright. But not this time. This time he walked deadly silent next to his family. He knew they didn’t want his words of comfort anyways. 

Entering the reaping was like a familiar sheet of ice falling over their shoulders. His mother placed her hands comfortingly over his brother's back, leading him with gentle encouragement. Dan envied that love, love of which he’d never had. It was always Dan’s job to apply for Tesserae. It was always his ‘duty’ as the older brother to put his life above his younger brothers. Back then, he’d taken that duty with honor, carrying it through, always looking out for him. But now? He knew what it all really was. They were just trying to get rid of him.Tch. Of course they were. That’s all they’d ever wanted to do with him, right? Use him for their gain until they’d either toss him out or he’d get reaped. 

Stepping up to get his blood taken, he felt an odd numbness standing behind his brother. His brother, who was sixteen. He himself who was seventeen. He was just a year older and yet he felt like there was a chasm between their ages. 

They separated as they were sent off to their own lines, Dan seeing his brother get his finger pricked and heading off without so much as a glance toward him. His stomach turned uncomfortably. 

“Next.”  
He looked up as the lady running the sign-in stand called him forward. Holding his breath, he let them turn over his hand and inject the metal rod inside, wincing at the sharp prick of pain and watching as the red blood ran down his finger. Once they were finished with the scan they sent him off to the lines again, suited guards directing him into the ‘17 year olds’ section of the boys side. He could see his brother from here. For a moment, he thought he caught his eye, but then another person stepped into his view and he lost visual of him. 

His heart rate was picking up gradually, jumping into his throat and beating harshly from within its cage. Looking at the stage, he could see around four guards just at the front corners. He’d never thought about what kind of lives the peacekeepers lived, but ironically, probably not the most peaceful. 

Then he saw him. A tall, thin, elegant man with swept brown hair, tan skin, a sharp jawline that was definitely accentuated by how much makeup he was wearing, all adorned in fancy red and purple attire that looked like it cost a fortune. Axel Blade. He only knew the name from his father, who off-handedly mentioned something about this year's District 12 reaper to his mother in passing conversation. 

And Dan could indeed confirm that the name fit him very well. Everything about this man was sharp, from the way he moved, to the arch of his brow, all the way down to the ridged points of his black shoes that click-clacked across the cement stage toward the microphone. Agile, long fingers gripped the stem, pulling it toward him gently as his icy blue eyes raked the crowd. Dan always found it a bit unnerving, how often people from the Capitol came with blue eyes. It was like the color itself said ‘wealth.’ And it wasn’t even a natural blue, like the dull blue-greys you would find in the lower or even mid-districts, no, it was always a bright, unnatural, piercing blue that struck you like a venomous snake, reeling you in with its hypnotic riches. 

“Welcome, Welcome,” He started, voice smooth like honey and sort of sultry as he addressed the crowd. “Welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games,” A crooked grin set on the man's face, pulling in an almost-smirk like but not uncharming way. “And, May the odds be ever in your favor.” His voice dipped, saying the phrase in an almost sing-song way, as people from the Capitol typically did. 

Dan felt chills ride down the whole length of his spine, back going rigid. Those words. Those fucking _words_ made him feel like all of his blood was replaced with ice, swarming his body from head to toe. ‘May the odds be ever in your favor,’ hah, as if the odds were ever going to be in their districts favor. They’d only ever had two victors throughout the entire span of the hunger games. One, a guy named Shane won the 61st hunger games at 18, and the second, an older lady named Alice who won the 31st hunger games at 16 and was now 59. All in all, District 12 didn’t exactly have the best track record. 

“Now, we have a special little treat for you all. A video message, sent straight from the Capitol!” The man's smile was almost excited, in a slightly uncomfortable way. Perhaps he could tell that they weren’t exactly clamoring to be here. With a subtle side-eye, he leaned in to the microphone and quietly added, “This is my favorite part,” as though it was some funny little secret, though the crowd stayed deadly stiff. Perhaps a joke like that would have worked in District 1, but not here. 

As the music picked up and the projector began to display imagery of desolated towns, Dan began to absently mouth the words to the video. He’d heard this whole thing about 5 times by now, and found each year it got a little easier to remember. 

_“War. Terrible War.”_

Dan sucked in a breath. Here we go. 

_“Widows. Orphans. A motherless child.”_

Way to play up the doomsday of this all. 

_“This was the uprising that robbed our land.”_

Well, you’re doing a pretty good job of that yourself. 

_“13 Districts rebelled against the country that fed them,_  
_Loved them_  
_Protected them.”_

Fed? Loved? Hah. I think you’ve got the wrong country.

_“Brother turned on brother until nothing remained.”_

We weren’t all exactly ‘brothers,’ now were we? 

_“And then came the peace.”_

Hah. Peace. 

_“Hard fought. Solely won.”_

Barely won. 

_“The people rose up from the ashes,  
And a new era was born.” _

An Era which I really wished I didn’t live in. 

_“But freedom has a cost.”_

Obviously. 

_“As the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation,  
We would never know this treason again.” _

‘Treason’, of course. 

_“And so it was decreed,  
That each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up a tribute.” _

So, you just, decided that yourself huh? 

_“One young man and woman,  
To fight to the death, in a pageant of honor,  
Courage,  
And sacrifice.” _

‘Sacrifice.’ Right. 

_“The lone victor, bathed in riches,_  
Would serve as a reminder of our generosity,  
And our forgiveness.” 

Dan couldn’t hold in a small chuckle at that. 

_“This is how we remember our past.”_

By reliving it. 

_“This is how we safeguard our future.”_

Dan exhaled largely. He was sure some of the people next to him were staring at him, but he didn’t care. If he was going to be forced to sit through that load of bullshit every year, he wasn’t going to pretend to enjoy it. 

Axel Blade, on the other hand, seemed to be very much enjoying himself. 

“Amazes me everytime, every single time.” He sighed, wiping at the corner of his eye as though tears had been building up. With a quick flash of his teeth and a clap of his hands, he spun back around to face the audience once more. 

“Now, it is time.” His voice lifted, as if something exciting were about to happen. “To select one courageous young man and woman, for the honor of representing District 12 in this year's 74th annual Hunger Games.” That wry grin returned, apparently not put out by the lack of excitement in the crowd. Because hey, if they all just _pretended_ everything was happy and normal, that would become the reality, right? 

“As usual, Ladies first!” And with that, he was spinning around and sauntering off to the glass bowl on the right side of the stage from where Dan was stood. 

Dan couldn’t help but to gulp uncomfortably. It was a shame, really, that the ladies had to go first. At least he and the other boys got to enjoy the hopeful stretch of silence first. Though, perhaps it was merciful in a way, like ripping off a bandaid. A very...deadly bandaid. 

Axels slender fingers hovered over the bowl for just a moment, before striking down and pulling one of the slips out in an all too quick movement. Gracefully, he sauntered back to the microphone, delicately taking his time to unseal the envelope-like piece of paper and stretching it out in front of him to read. 

“Catherine Valdes” 

There was an audible stretch of unbearable silence, as everyone turned their heads simultaneously to try and spot the girl. From among the dense crowd of girls, he could see a path forming. At its end stood a small child with black hair done in two braided pigtails that hung loosely over her shoulders, and he decided it was better to look away. He hated this part. The moment where the person realized their fate, and it was like watching someone living through their worst fears. So Dan never looked, he never watched. The slow, numb crunch of the rubble under her feet as she walked the isle was enough. 

Dan felt tears already pricking the corners of his eyes, but despite himself, he looked up to watch as she took her place on the stage next to Axel. She couldn’t be older than 15, at the most. There was no way she could do this. This was blatent murder. Fucking _bastards_

“You look wonderful dear.” Axel said loftily, a big smile on his face as he regarded the girl, though Dan doubted she was even listening to him. Her face was pale, her body movements were stiff and Dan recognized complete hopelessness in her dim brown gaze as she stared blankly ahead. From Dan’s peripheral he thought he could hear the echoes of grief rippling the ladies' side of the crowd. His heart clenched when he imagined it being a mother who’d just lost her child, or a sibling who was now alone in life.

She wouldn’t make it. And they all knew. 

“Now, for the boys!” Axel's cheery voice matched very little with the somber mood of the crowds, though he appeared to be deaf to it all as he click-clacked his way toward the men’s bowl. 

Dan felt his pulse rise despite everything. 

Did he really not care if he was reaped, or was he just kidding himself? If his brother was reaped, would he volunteer for him? If _he_ was reaped, would his brother volunteer for _him_ ? There were too many damn questions. 

Before he knew it, Axel was at the front of the stage again, grinning as he held out the envelope and carefully unsealed it. 

He heard the man clear his voice once, before uttering the words, 

“Aiden Howell” 

And Dan froze on the spot. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach, and he whipped his head up so fast to look around that he was pretty sure the kids around him assumed that _he_ was Aiden Howell. 

But no. And he watched. Breathing ragged and chest heaving, as his brother walked forward and into the center isle. Dan could see the absolute fear on his face. The dread. The overwhelming sadness and despair. 

And he looked back. And he saw his parents, crying in the crowd. And he saw the grief in their expressions. And he saw the way Aiden shook as he walked toward the stage. And he thought to himself, 

_If they lose him, they’re losing everything. If they lose me…_

Dan didn’t know what he was doing, or why he was doing it. His entire body had gone numb, limbs working on their own to carry him out of the crowd and into the center isle. Expressionless, emotionless face blinking slowly. 

“Stop.” His voice broke, hardly carried over even the mere sound of shoes crunching on pebble, so he said it again, firmer. “Stop.” 

More silence stretched. Aiden looked back at him, eyes wide, terrified, tears running down his face. 

Axel on the other hand, seemed annoyed more than anything. 

“Excuse me, please go back to your-“ 

Hands were on his shoulders, but he didn’t register the peacekeepers at all. He simply shoved them aside and stated, loudly, 

“I volunteer as tribute.” 

After that statement, he didn’t know why, but it was like some sort of dam broke. His body relaxed, became less rigid, and a hopeless sort of feeling rose up in his chest. He felt oddly cold. Numb. Sad. But...he accepted it. He was never going to make it anyways. Might as well give someone who had a chance the ability to carry on. They wouldn’t need him. One less mouth to feed means one less Tesserae. 

He could tell the area around him had settled into a stunned silence, before whispers abound. Axel stuttered for a moment, his blue eyes wide, before he attempted to regain his composure. All the while, Dan had approached his brother and looked down at him. 

Aidens face crumpled like a broken piece of plastic, a sob wretching his body before he was throwing his arms around Dans back and crying. Dan...stood there. Slowly, he raised one of his arms to lay it over his back, the other coming up to pat the back of his head. “Aiden. I need you to go and find Dad-“ He hadn't even finished when a peacekeeper’s hand grasped Aidens shoulder and was shoving him off. There was a soft “no-“ from him, before familiar hands belonging to a familiar face gripped him around the shoulders and began to hastily lead him away. Dan watched his father and brother disappear into the crowd, another cold hand on his back belonging to the guard, and he was hardly even listening to what Axel was saying. 

“What a dramatic turn of events from District 12. It seems we have our first ever volunteer! Come along now, come along,” 

Dan looked up to see Axel standing there, a wide surprised grin on his face as he gestured for Dan to hurry. 

In any other situation Dan would have thought of a snarky quip to make, but he didn’t feel in the mood for that sort of thinking right now. 

Staggering up the stairs, he felt hands jostle him into place, front facing the crowd but eyes not really looking at anyone. 

“What’s your name son?” The microphone was thrust in front of him, and he blinked at it a few times before a soft “Dan Howell.” Escaped his lips. 

Axels' expression read of someone who couldn’t believe what they were hearing and was beyond excited about it. Dan could only focus on the blue of his eyes as he turned the mic back onto himself for a moment to ask a quick “I’m going to bet that boy down there was your brother, wasn’t it?” Before there was the mic again, sitting there and waiting for him to speak. 

He was silent for a long moment. His eyes trailed the crowd until they saw his father and brother, Aiden curled up into his father's side still crying, and his father, to his astonishment, appeared to be emotional as well. 

_probably relief_ his brain supplied, dimming the brief moment of light before it could really start. 

“Yes. It was.” He breathed, surprised at himself and how absolutely monotone his voice was. 

“Well, this has certainly made for an interesting turn of events.” Axel chimed, grin so wide Dan thought the corners of his mouth would split. 

He felt a hand on his back, glancing over to see Catherine in a similar position as the two tributes were gestured a step forward. 

“And here we have our two tributes from District 12! Catherine Valdes, and District 12’s first volunteer, Dan Howell!” He paused, as though expecting a roar of applause to welcome his words. 

Instead, one by one, the crowd raised their hands heavenward, three fingers pointed up toward the sky as a symbol of respect, admiration and farewell. 

Dan was...mesmerized. He’d never seen this happen before. If his mind were working half as much as it normally was, he would have gaped at the gesture. But now, he just stood there in silence, watching. 

“Ahem. Anyways,” Axel had continued swiftly after the brief pause, peoples arms lowering slowly. It was the first time in Dan's life that he ever felt respected, and seen. It’s just a shame that this would be the last time these people would see him. 

_‘ goodbye ‘_

He wanted to say, though he simply set his expression into a neutral one and scanned the crowd, one by one. 

“Come on, don’t be shy now, shake hands!” 

He glanced over to see the girl from his district meet his gaze. Her eyes were actually more Hazel then they appeared from father away, and they were about as dark as Dan assumed his own were. Though, she seemed a bit more dazed, a bit more struck. Dan didn’t know how he looked, but he didn’t necessarily feel anything, so that was probably an indication. 

Slowly, both tributes extended their hands, giving a firm shake to each other in what they knew was the sign-off of their deathbeds. 

“Happy Hunger Games!” 

The voice of Axel drew Dan's attention back to the man, who was grinning now as he addressed the crowd. 

_“And may the odds be ever in your favor.”_

**𓌖**

The roar of the crowd greeted him as he stepped out from behind a curtain and made his way into the front of the audience. Colors were everywhere, everyone was adorned wearing jewelry, big wigs and makeup. There were still quite a few average-looking people like Phil himself, but it was no denying that wealth swarmed the citizens and the area around them. The curtain this year was gold and sparkly, and even the judges were all fasited with fancy ribbons and a splash of eye shadow. 

Phil was grinning even as this year's district one reaper stepped up to the microphone. He was grinning because just a couple hours earlier the mentors had all gathered and made the decision that Phil would be the one to volunteer in the games. Jake had an emotional outrage right then and there, but this time Phil was ready for it and with a single punch to the face and a side-step, Jake had managed to fall off the metal platform and hit his head against the corner of a paint rack, of which red paint spilt over and covered the entire side of his face. Phil had just managed to hold in his laughter, but he could see affirmation cross the mentors' minds as though realizing they’d made the right choice. 

Phil was amped, to say the least. He’d trained for this his whole life, he was beyond ready to step into that ring now. For his District, for his family, and for Martyn and Anthony, he would be the one coming out of that arena. 

“Welcome! Citizens of District one, to this year's 74th Annual Hunger games!” 

The crowd erupted into cheer as Pandora grabbed the microphone and trotted around the stage with it, her white hair flowing like a veil gracefully behind her, contrasting against the darkness of her skin and her surprisingly vibrant blue eyes. She was wearing a black and silver dress, that wrapped around her in interesting smoke-like patterns before separating into two different trains that dragged on the clean wooden stage behind her. Phil thought she was an interesting reaper this year, but couldn’t find much interesting or particularly stand out about her. 

“Who’s ready for our favorite part?” Her voice lilted, a small smirk playing at the corners of her white-lined lips. Phil could see her face projected perfectly on the large projection screens to either side of him, but chose to simply look ahead considering he was already at the front of the crowd. 

More cheers greeted her, before the familiar film started up. This _was_ a pretty cool part, though Phil could admit it got a bit boring after the 7th time. Nevertheless, he listened and gave a small hurrah when it got to the part about the games being a pageant of Honor and sacrifice. 

His heart rate picked up excitedly as finally, _finally_ she got to the actual reaping part. 

“As always, ladies first!” Her eyes flashed at the crowd before delicately picking one of the many slips of paper from the bowl. She had hardly even finished saying the name “Jaiden Ari” when the loud voice of Lilly sounded at the front of the girls crowd, confidence lacing her voice as the words “I volunteer as tribute” carried across the audience. 

Phil had been there when the mentors had selected her as the female tribute to volunteer for the games. She had been so excited at the time, and that confidence hasn’t seemed to wear down in the slightest since that point. Lilly was a master in spears and herbs, something essential to know once they formed a career pack. He had also watched her handle a throwing knife a few times, so she was certainly a good long range companion. 

The crowd applauded her as she made her way up to the stage, Pandora giving her a little congratulatory grin and pat on the back. 

“Wonderful! I’m loving that confidence!” Pandora sang, her mouth pulled into a seemingly permanent grin. 

“I think the boys down there are getting impatient, so I’d better hurry” She joked with a small wink toward the crowd, to which they all laughed. She was indeed correct, Phil was absolutely itching to get on with it and join Lilly up on stage. 

Phil didn’t need to think about it at all, hardly allowing her to finish the name “Sorin flight-“ before he stepped forward and eagerly let the words “I volunteer as tribute!” Escape his mouth. 

With a grin and applause at his back, Phil was ushered onto the stage beside Pandora and given the microphone. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Phil looked over to see Pandora’s eyes flashing teasingly at him, and he noticed to his curiosity that she had little silver painted streaks that ran from the corners of her eyes and back toward her ears. He flashed her his best grin, hoping he looked as confident as he felt. “Very eager.” He simply responded, knowing it was unaccustomed to go deeper into detail during the reaping. He’d have to wait to share his story until the interview, but for now he could give the camera his most determined look. 

_I did it Martyn. I’m going to do it for you._

And he knew that not far from here, Martyn would be watching him on a monitor and would hopefully be as proud of him as he was of himself. 

As the reaping came to an end and he and Lilly raised their hands to the air, interlocking their fingers and giving determined farewells to the audience, Phil knew from here on out things would be different. 

Now, it was time for a trip to the Capitol.


End file.
